


Avalon Beach

by HicSuntDracones



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: And that includes a king coming back from the dead, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), Avalon - Freeform, But not the Avalon you think, Crack Treated Seriously, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, New Jersey, New Jersey can deal with anything, Okay this isn't really crack, We're in New Jersey, but it's borderline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HicSuntDracones/pseuds/HicSuntDracones
Summary: After millennia, Arthur finally washes up on the shores of Avalon. It's just not the Avalon you're expecting.
Relationships: Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 13
Collections: Fics that happen in New Jersey





	Avalon Beach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PenDragonInkus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenDragonInkus/gifts).



> This is how I cope okay?
> 
> I've been meaning to write something funny like this for ages, because as a Jersey girl I've always found it hilarious that there's an Avalon on the same side of the ocean as me. And of course, Arthur washing up on a Jersey beach and having no idea what the fuck is going on is prime humor. Artistic liberties are taken with some details of the town, I haven't been there in years and needed to fit some things into the story.
> 
> This is dedicated to my Jess, because our friend-a-versary is coming up and I have no idea if I'm going to write anything good between now and then so please enjoy this cracky, stupid, cute little thing. (And yes, if you ever manage to visit me we are totally going to Avalon).

_ Owwwwwwwwww. _ If it weren’t for the fact that he has already died, Arthur would think that he was dying right now. Everything hurts. His skin is burning and peeling and he looks like he’s fallen into a vat of red dye-

“ _ Sir _ ,” a stern voice interrupts his internal pity party, which he is perfectly entitled to have, thank you very much- “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to get up now. Public nudity is not permitted on this beach.”

“What?” He asks groggily, and  _ oh, _ his throat aches from centuries without water and the word comes out sounding like a “Whg?”

The voice-a woman’s-murmurs to itself. “ _ Great, just great. Not even eight in the damn morning and I gotta get a drunk off the beach- _ ” Arthur manages to turn his head towards the voice. He regrets this immediately as the sun burns into his eyes. He makes a pitiful noise and curls back into himself.

“How ya liking that hangover?” If this was a hangover, then Camlann was a child’s play fight. He says nothing and tries to will himself back into unconsciousness. “Sir. Sir! Dude!” He is lightly kicked in the kneecap. “You’re coming with me.”

Covering one eye and blinking miserably, Arthur finally manages to look at the woman speaking. She’s tall and dark, wearing an annoyed expression and some kind of uniform marked with a red cross. “What?” This time it sounds a little more like a human language coming out of his mouth.

“ _ I said _ , you’re coming with me. This is a public beach, and now I have to write you up for indecent exposure. You have any idea where your clothes are?”

The last thing he remembers is… “Lake…” 

“Your clothes are in a lake? Great, just...okay, here-” She takes off her red hat and shoves it at him. “Get up, cover yourself with this, can you get up?” It takes a few minutes, but he manages to get to his feet-which  _ ache and burn _ -and stumble ahead of the woman as she rudely directs him to what she calls the ‘lifeguard station’. Along the way he is treated to a tirade against drunkards, nude beaches, people being nude on beaches that are not nude beaches, and bachelor parties that result in ‘drunk idiots like you’ ending up on the beach  _ twenty minutes before they open to the public _ ….

Arthur hears very little of it, too focused on not tripping over his own feet, thinking about how much everything hurts, and trying to keep important bits of himself covered. His mind is worryingly blank of anything besides this. Something inside him waits for someone to make a joke about how his mind is always blank, but the how and the who escape him.

After a miserable eternity of walking over the scorching sand of the beach, the woman grabs him by the back of the neck. “Hey, slow your roll. You almost walked into the door.” He looks up from his feet to see a small, clean building made of tan stone and old wood. There’s a sign in the same red as the hat he’s holding. ‘AVALON BEACH NEW JERSEY: TOURIST HEALTH SERVICES’. Something about that is familiar, but he can’t place his finger on it- “FUCK!” He strikes his head against something hard, collapsing on the ground to the sound of the woman’s laughter.

“That just made my whole day!” She wheezes. “So drunk you don’t see the glass…” She then grabs a handle and opens the large pane of glass that he’d assumed was a window. Who made a door out of glass?

\-----

Ten minutes later his head is throbbing, adding to the now somewhat extensive list of minor injuries he’s gained since waking. His feet are blistered, most of his skin is burned to a crisp, there’s a long cut on his leg from gods-know-what, and now he’s got a bloody nose and a headache. He’s also in gaol.

The woman-who a small sign above a desk proclaimed Deputy Cole-had hustled him through several rooms too fast for him to see anything before pushing him behind a barred door and locking it. She’d left the room and returned with some very brightly colored clothing( _ Avalon Beach New Jersey, est. 1723 _ ), throwing it through the bars and telling him to get dressed. Then she’d handed him a box of thin handkerchiefs so he could wipe the blood off his face. 

He was still trying to organize his thoughts, or more accurately, have a proper thought.  _ Avalon _ . Why was that familiar? More importantly, why was nothing else familiar? Why had he been naked? On a  _ beach _ ? He tries to think about how he’d ended up on the beach, but he doesn’t have a single memory before waking up fifteen minutes ago. Just a horrible sunburn and the feeling that Avalon means something to him.

Deputy Cole comes back into the room, followed by a young girl who must be her daughter. She looks exactly like her, with the exception of her long dark hair wound into dozens of braids decorated with beads and the very large book she is carrying. “Go sit over there while I finish this guy’s report, okay?”

“Yeah mom. We can go on the beach later, right?”

“Once my shift’s over. Now shush.” The girl installs herself on a small bench opposite the gaol cell, looking over at Arthur and giggling. 

“What is so funny-Mackenzie!” Deputy Cole marches over to the gaol and removes a piece of paper taped to the bars. It says ‘BEACH JAIL’ in purple ink. “I told you this isn’t funny.”

“It’s pretty funny-”

“It is not funny, we’ll talk about this once I’m done with my paperwork.” Mackenzie ignores this and opens her book. Deputy Cole looks at Arthur, “Kids, huh?” He shrugs, not sure what his reaction is supposed to be. “Alright then, let’s get you sorted out.” 

She sits in a large chair at the desk on the other side of the room, cracking her knuckles before…..Arthur’s not sure what she’s doing. The flat thing he’d previously taken to be some kind of smooth rock or book cover starts glowing and words appear. This is...strange? Probably. The fact that he has no frame of reference for anything is becoming increasingly frustrating.

“Name?”

“What?”

“Your name. I’m assuming you don’t have your ID on you, but I still need your basic information so I can fill out this report. And I am going to need to see some ID before I let you out of here, so I hope you have someone to call.”

“I can’t really call anyone from in here, no one will hear me.”

“And we have a comedian, great. Just give me your name.”

“Arthur.”

“Yeah?”

“My name is Arthur.” Mackenzie suddenly looks up from her book, apparently interested in the conversation.

“Last name?”

“I’m...not sure.”

“You don’t know your last name?” Should he?

“I believe I’m having some memory problems.”

“How much did you drink last night?” 

“I have no idea.” That much is true.

“Do you remember anything?” Does he? He closes his eyes, tries to picture anything from his life before this morning. There’s nothing. Just the vague idea of the beach, of dark water and a blue sky and….blue eyes. Blue eyes and Avalon. Why were those connected? Had he come to Avalon with someone-

He shoots to his feet, “Merlin! I remember Merlin! He brought me to the lake!” Deputy Cole looks unamused.

“Merlin, huh?” A loud exhale through her nose. “Okay, while I wait for you to sober up I’m gonna go call some of the bars nearby, see if anyone can vouch for you. I need coffee. Kenzie, honey, you want anything?”

Mackenzie’s eyes are wide and excited, and she’s holding her book very tightly. Must be a good story. “I’m good, Mom.”

“I’ll be right back, ‘kay? No playing with the computer and if he starts doing anything weird or creepy you come get me right away. Got it?”

“Got it.” Mackenzie watches Deputy Cole go, jumping over to the gaol cell the second her mother is out of earshot. She holds her book like a shield as she presses close to the bars. 

“Are you alright-”

“Is your last name Penn?”  _ Penn? _ That...that sounds rather right actually. Not quite there, but close. He tells her so.

“Do you really not remember anything? Like, anything at all?”

“I know my name’s Arthur,” he says slowly. “My second name is something like Penn, and I went to a lake with Merlin. That’s all.”

“Who’s Merlin?”

“I don’t...a friend, I think.” The warm feeling in his chest seems to confirm that sentiment, even if he can remember nothing other than the name and those eyes.

“Your name is Arthur and you have a friend named Merlin and you’re in Avalon.” Mackenzie repeats very quickly.

“I just told you that-”

“No, your name is Arthur and you have a friend named Merlin and  _ you’re in Avalon _ .” She’s practically squealing now.

“I don’t understand why that’s important-”

“Are you Arthur Pendragon?” Now  _ that _ sounds familiar. In his mind, he can hear a dozen different voices all calling out that name, calling out  _ his _ name in the way they’ve done all his life.

“I think I might be. It certainly sounds right-” Mackenzie interrupts him with a squeal. Then she’s hurriedly flipping through the pages of her book-titled World Mythologies-and shoving a particular page in his face. 

“You’re King Arthur! You’re actually King Arthur, the King Arthur, I can’t believe this, this is the coolest day of my life, I knew it! I knew the second you said Merlin, ‘cause who is actually named Merlin in this century, forget about having a friend named Arthur, but when you put the two together and add in that you wash up in Avalon it just fits together too well-”

“Can you please stop bouncing!” He can’t read the page she was trying to foist on him.

“Oh, sorry. I’m just so excited because, well, I’ve read about you. And Merlin, and Morgana, and is she as cool as the stories make her seem, because she always seems awesome-”

Arthur tunes her out a bit. Not to be rude, but this book is suddenly incredibly interesting.  _ King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot _ , the text begins.  _ A quasi-historical British leader whose exploits, along with those of Morgana le Fay and the Round Table, feature heavily in the English folk tradition. Son of Duchess Ygraine Du Bois and War Duke Uther Pendragon, Arthur ruled over the small kingdom of Camelot before expanding his reign outwards to include all of Albion, which corresponds with most of modern-day Britain and Wales. Accounts vary, but most stories agree that he would have lived in the eighth century C.E…… _

_ Many historians doubt whether Camelot actually existed, as legends of its founding and expansion often include tales of dragons and magic being present in daily life, leading some scholars to believe that the kingdom and culture is entirely fictional…. _

_ Notable companions include half-sister Sorceress Morgana le Fay(see pg.76), the Wizard Merlin(see pg.72), Queen Guinevere(see pg. 80), Sir Kay, Sir Lancelot, The Lady of the Lake…. _

_ There are many versions of the stories of Arthur’s life, recorded by various authors over the centuries, and this collection has become known as the Arthurian Cycle, more broadly a part of Arthurian Legend that often includes aspects of Celtic mythology. There are many discrepancies, but a universal tale within the Cycle is that of Arthur’s death in battle-usually Camlann-and his subsequent watery burial in the lake at Avalon, followed by promises of his eventual return. In these stories he is given the moniker ‘Once and Future King’- _

Arthur stops reading, mostly because his head is 

splitting

open.

A lifetime or two worth of memories explodes into his skull with a piercing pain, turning his world multicolored before whiting out and fading to black.

This is a nice way of saying he passes out.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm on tumblr @hairasuntouchedaspartoftheamazon
> 
> Stay safe out there, and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gEg_18R_0L0&list=PLpXKKjLOdpe4siCKeNTUZbAhFSOXnpJcq&index=13 play this video playlist in the background to donate to various BLM foundations and bail funds. If you're like me and have no money, this is a good way to help. Fanfic is great, but stay active and stay educated in whatever way you can.


End file.
